The Mergirl and Her Maiden
by Lily Lovett
Summary: A retelling of the classic story, except this time the subject of affection is much snarkier. MegAriel
1. The Bracelet

The Mergirl and Her Maiden

Author: Lilylovett aka Your-Beauty (deviantART)

Disclaimer: "The Little Mermaid" & "Hercules" and all characters within © The Walt Disney Company and its related entities. The original fairy tale, also entitled "The Little Mermaid" belongs to the Danish poet Hans Christian Anderson Danish. All rights reserved. There is no profit, aside from personal satisfaction here.

Rating: PG for dark themes and some language.

Summary: This is a full retelling of The Little Mermaid story, which takes the Disney princess Ariel and suits her in the traditional fairytale. In addition, I've changed it up with another Disney character, Megara of Hercules, as she is the subject of her affections rather than Prince Eric. Femslash all of the way...had to do this because of some awesome fanart.

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><p>"Father," the young mergirl exclaims in distress, "...why? What has caused our differences from humans?"<p>

"Ariel, you'll soon turn old enough to see for yourself that limbs are not all that they appear. The human race is full of disdain and unwarranted self-importance," Triton shakes his head. He has dealt with this question enough with the turning of age for each previous daughter.

"From what others have reported-" He cuts her off, promptly, striking his trident to the seafloor.

"Your seventeenth year is within two sunsets. You shall see, soon enough, for yourself that their glamor is not wholesome, nor always morally right." His eyes soften.

"And be careful with the knowledge that you will gain. You are blessed, do not forget."

He kisses her gently on the forehead. Ariel takes time to exit the palace quietly acting distracted by a nonexistent task, with her head low. The sun is setting shortly, giving her an ample few hours of leisure time. She swims to the grotto, so lovingly adorned with treasures. Ariel attempts her best to ignore Triton's ringing words.

Pressing a wooden contraption to her ear, Ariel can faintly hear the broken tinkering of the music box. In her haven, Ariel allows the shiny and curious artifacts of the human world to consume her full interest. Unaware of the time that has passed, Ariel is startled into reality by a familiar voice.

"Ariel, hey are you down there?" Flounder sounds absolutely panicked. What else is new?

"Oh, Flounder! What's the worry now?" She smiles.

"On the way, I saw this huge fin from a distance, and it was definitely a hungry shark." He opens his jaws with full force, puts on the most menacing face he is able to manage.

"I'm sure it looked like _this_ from the front. I had to jet down here to escape the guy." He involuntary shudders.

"You scare easy," Ariel takes the fish in her arms and rubs his head. "What if it was merely a dolphin?"

"Doesn't matter it was a potentially dangerous situation. Anyways...how was your discussion with the King?"

"Unproductive, to say the least." Ariel lays back on a flat rock, looking up to what little light filters above.

"Ah well, at least soon we'll be able to witness the surface, together." From under his yellow body, he produces a small object. With excitement he blurts, "I found this. For you."

A child-sized bracelet constructed of coarse rope stringing together several small, painted beads. Ariel stirs immediately, taking the bracelet and holding it above her head. She hugs him close.

"The moons have yet to pass and you've already brought me such a wonderful gift. Flounder, you're the greatest!"

The fish blushes, grateful to heighten the spirits of his friend.

**XXX**

"Herc, you know I'm not one to eagerly await social gatherings." She says it with idleness in her voice, as if to irk him.

"I know; but think—a few months from now we'll finally be wed," he looks out to the sea. "I wanted this to be special. Your last birthday before it is just _us_, eternally." His eyes sparkle with that boyish innocence. Hercules is confident that he and Meg were made for one another.

Meg sighs, unnoticed by the beaming wonder boy. She is frankly opposed to extensive sea travel, as it involves constant, uneasy rockiness and constant dampness. Less than this, though, is the desire to get through his thick skull that an extravagant party does not necessarily alter her anxiety. If she were to be fully honest, Meg relishes in these few months. Her wedding date feels years away.

"Right, wonder boy. Thanks." She winks at him.

Hercules is an ideal fiance, hell, she has acquaintances that nearly murdered her in envy. With his chiseled chin, pecs, and boyish charm, it wasn't such a shock that he was a hot commodity, after fully harnessing control control of his inhuman strength. But Meg was a damn sucker for love every time. She cared for Herc, yes, they were best friends, had already supported one another in another life for nearly ten years. Yet, not once had anything but platonic emotion arisen within Meg for the goofy, muscular lug.

"Have you seen my bracelet? Not sure if the guys swiped it for shits and giggles, but it is kind of important to me." Meg had been searching frantically in her cabin, but she played off her concenr.

"No," Hercules but his head in his hands, still looking over the deck. Rarely did he act standoffish. "Megara...Meg, I know you've had that _trinket_ since before even we were betrothed; but that's why I disposed of it, elsewhere. I've expelled my keepsakes from my wake and you should as well—we can't allow the past to hold us back."

Meg was seething.

"I'm pissed, Herc. You ought to know why." She is grinning wildly, perhaps even madly when he seems to shrink in demeanor. "Don't touch the few possessions I own. It's simple. Soon enough we'll be sharing our parents' royalty, and therefore a home, garden, bed, and children. The number of anything that I will own personally without your name attached, I will be able to count on one hand."

Her anger was near extinguished by this point. She felt guilty for berating him so.

"I understand what you were attempting to accomplish; but a few charms won't stop time from moving forward. Memories never do." Meg felt her voice diminish, like a candle yield to wind.

"Right, sorry, Meg. I...I don't know what I was thinking, being jealous of some wooden beads." Silence. "Well then. Off to rest, you should, too." He quickly dashes off from the scene, fully aware of his mistake.

Meg only sighs and nods her head. It is difficult being confined to marrying a boy in his first relationship. She knows full well that Hercules's naivety and impulse are parts of the charm. Underneath the well-defined pectorals exists an awkward kid, unsure of his own power. His younger years as an outcast has prevented arrogance. Most days, Meg is relieved that her future seems so incredibly set and safe, being required to marry damn wonder boy, regardless of her own level of affection. Yet nights like these she laments for more, in the slightest ends of her heart.

Physical objects mean little to Meg, unless strong sentiment is attached. The bracelet had been her only lasting reminder of her first love. Now in spite, it has been cast away, Meg thinks bitterly.


	2. Idle Celebrations

"Ariel, have you prepared yourself?"

"Dad, you're starting to worry as much as Flounder."

"Right, well it's not every day my last daughter becomes a young merwoman. Seventeen is a special year." He hovers to the dresser, grabs the clamshell which sits on top. Its purple body shimmers, though it is not much larger than a fist. Opening it with swift dexterity, fair sized pearls are revealed.

"Here you are, my girl. The finest in all of the sea. These were your mother's." He strokes her hair. Ariel is near tears.

As princess, she has been fully prepared for the occasion. Her bright red hair has been carefully arranged in a crown; her breastplate fully jeweled. She is exquisite, assured by each of her sisters. Aesthetics matter little to Ariel, however.

She only longs to see the surface.

**XXX**

"Meg, you're twenty now. Wow, do I feel young, even though it's only by two years, but that's okay. I believe all of the preparations have been made. We can celebrate and then dock ship by dawn. The stiffness of this coat is quite suffocating. It feels as if I'm talking a mile a minute." Meg puts her finger to his lips.

"Yes, wonder boy, everything will be fine."

She looks stunning, as does he. Her auburn hair is tied back to fall down in its voluptuous curl. Her dress is a radiant, subtle color of carnations, matching well with his accents of royal blue and gold threaded throughout his dress shirt and pant. They are a dashing couple, she admits.

"You're more excited than I am, Herc. Ya know we're getting married not-today, right? No need to feel nervous."

"But like I said, I want this to be perfect. No bandits, sudden natural disasters, or anything else of that sort which will distract us from enjoying tonight." He takes her hand, kisses it mildly.

Meg nods, feeling guilt at not being as in love with him as he is in to her. She is well aware of the inevitably of attractions, despite how inconveniently they may come about.

There is a ball with dancing. Another ship filled with wealthy passengers from the next kingdom has come to meet theirs. Fresh, social interaction that Meg would love to abstain from. But Hercules' father, bless the man, is terribly charismatic and convinced all that would listen to create a ruckus about her birth date.

It is a beautiful set up. Wooden tables with satin clothes, candles of the finest oils and wicks, have turned the ship into a place of leisure and gossip. Rich food is consumed, men and women allow their inhibitions to subdue, mildly, and the live musicians have schizophrenically been rotating between sonnet and requested folk jives.

The more intoxicated Meg feels herself becoming, the more often she finds herself describing that damned beaded bracelet. Her feeble side, hidden when sober, becomes glaringly pronounced. Though no other person is in a proper enough state to notice.

Swirling her glass near the table of foods, Meg fails to escape a nosy Baron, insistent upon "becoming better acquainted with" Hercules by bombarding his fiance with an intense questionnaire. Irked by this, Meg does not realize the first bolt of lightning which flashes.

Rain begins to pour, and people become frantic. Meg has lost her senses, is unsure of her surroundings. An object has struck her in the chest; the ship violently staggering at the torrents underneath. The sail is raised and damaged just as quickly. At this point, Meg is half-conscious. Her stomach is weak to the thrashing of the waters.

In the chaos, she is whipped by the winds, tossed into cold, enraged waters. When did a storm ever posses such power? Meg is nearly sure she is to die, as everything has become silent. The clothes on her body feel incredibly heavy. Her eyes close.

**XXX**

The little mergirl had quite received her wish in visiting the surface; she had seen wonders only previously left to the imagination. Then, a storm which seemed to leave the humans in a distraught, dire situation.

Ariel knew interference was forbidden. But in the entirety of the night that she had witnessed, there was only one particular human that her eye had met. Beauty resonated in Ariel's mind. Even next to Flounder, whom had various comments of interest such as, "Look, so that's how they eat" or, "Wow, having legs with which to dance seems wonderful" Ariel had limited responses.

Erratically her heart had beat at the sight of this woman. Megara, Ariel had grasped, was what she was called. Even her name seemed as exotic and wonderful as the being herself. Observation of Meg: with each small sway of the hip, or slight pout which fell upon her lips, Ariel found her pulse move all the more wildly.

She was a woman that demanded the attention of the room without asking for it. Her voice was mature, unfazed for the majority of the evening. Ariel found herself longing to know and see more of this captivating woman; wanted to hear her laugh and see her smile. Ariel feared what had come over her, but could not help but be enraptured by it.

Thus, interfered she had. Ariel had saved this woman that she felt so entranced by. Meg caused her insides to feel light, and Ariel decided she quite enjoyed it and wanted to revel in it. She could not risk losing this human that she barely knew.

Sun beats down on the small patch of sand. Because the beach is deserted, Ariel takes to a rock near the shore and sings. Throughout the sea she has been acclaimed with the most magnificent voice, and so she carols an enchanting melody. Ariel hopes it is only enough to wake the woman into consciousness.

When Meg coughs and begins to stir, Ariel quickly turns back to the sea, knowing of consequences. All the while, she remains jovial in the sight of Meg's health. And, of having been in the presence of Meg.


	3. Always the Wiser

"What the hell happened?" Meg exclaims to no one in particular. Her lungs feel raw and her throat is tired. It was...a thing that had fallen, knocked her through the chest. She was sure she was to perish. But here she was, alive and breathing the following morning.

To be saved from peril, immediately brings thought of Hercules. Yet, he is nowhere to be seen. Meg is quite alone.

Vaguely, she recalls a pair of strong, but small arms. Certainly not Herc. Gentle, firey locks. And a voice. It was definitely not Hercules. A sweet descant–how could she forget its source? But it seemed that her mind would produce no information beyond that. Although her chest hurt, Meg found she could move, albeit slowly.

**XXX**

Megara.

Ariel allows the name to roll from her tongue, lets it settle there and into her heart, leaving the mergirl with renewed desires concerning humanity. She has felt a sense of elation in the past fortnight, constantly feeling higher; unweighed down by the confinement of the sea, as she had previously. It was the image of Meg deeply etched into her mind, which left Ariel in an inebriated state of contentedness.

Her sisters, though most often left the youngest to her own musings, had seen the shift. No longer was Ariel moping about, nor seemingly focused by some arbitrary project. Now, Ariel was absolutely buoyant; even willing to attend various social functions with them. Yet the entire time, Ariel had seemed more distant than ever, though now with an unyielding, loopy grin. The sisters knew lovesickness well.

Assuming some lucky merman had stolen her heart, the girls did not to ruin Ariel's mood by imposing questions, though they were certainly curious. Even King Triton admitted his normally rebellious daughter was involved in less antics, though he assumed maturity with age had finally applied.

"Ariel," Flounder always seems to swim urgently to the grotto. It is never a leisure visit with him, it would seem. "A thought just struck me! You know how Meg kept asking about a circlet? Well, I think it is the same one that I brought to you. Weird, isn't it?" She suddenly brings him close to him, hugs him in excitement.

"How had we not seen it before?!" She exclaims, grateful for his observance. After a short dialogue concerning Flounder's conduct and parental concern, he flits off as soon as he had appeared with the curious revelation. Ariel calls out that Triton could always put in a good word, as Flounder swims hastily to save his tail fins from further chastising.

The wristlet is small, as if formed for a child. Its beads are a combination of wood and metal. Not the cleanest crafting, Ariel thinks: like Meg, but it certainly has a type of hidden past about it. Knowing now that she owns an object of Meg's, Ariel begins to ponder her situation further, suddenly realizing that her infatuation could be easily written off. A chance at it flourishing further seems near impossible.

After several hours spent in the alcove of human artifacts, Ariel has pondered enough to take her apprehension to the dearest of mermaids—her grandmother.

Mermaid Elder, the fish populous lovingly has dubbed her. Ariel has become accustomed to the idea that her own grandmother serves as a makeshift grandmother for various creatures throughout their part of the sea. She is wise and quite ancient.

The coral has been molded into a tiny fixture. The door is made up of only seaweed. It seems curious to Ariel that a woman of such status should live in such a homely shack.

"Mermaid Elder, it's one of your granddaughters. Ariel, the youngest," she calls into the weeds. A moment of hesitation, then a response:

"About time, deary. Let yourself in, the preparations for a fresh batch of urchincrumpets is nearly done."

Sitting on a sea stool, the warm house is entirely dull, pink. Books of leaf paper and various items, both of the surface world and fishcreation a like, fill to the brim all bits of space.

"Oh, Grandma Elder. Much has happened since my turning seventeen. But I'm not sure father would quite approve..." Ariel smirks sheepishly, as if guilty. Mermaid Elder returns with an even wider grin of approval.

"My lips are sealed, deary. I wouldn't still be here if I didn't how to hold a few secrets to my breast."

"Well...I have saved a human." Ariel squeezes her eyes shut, awaiting judgement. There is silence for a moment. She opens one eye to see Mermaid Elder merely staring in return.

"Continue," she gestures, "and if that's it, love; well, I have saved a human just as you have, back in my day." The Elder winks, then.

"Yes, but it's caused me to wonder; if she never drowns would she never die? Is there a lifespan to humanity?"

"A sum of thinking you have been at," She sets a tray of biscuits down, and settles into a plush anemone chair, positioned an arms' length away.

"I'll tell you love, it's been nearly a century since I've been faced with this question in particular."

Ariel bites into the urchin, waiting, though it tastes a bit bland. She is nearly at the edge of her seat, eager for an answer.

"Ariel, are you prepared to understand?"

"Absolutely, Grandma Elder," she nods her head in rapid succession, out of enthusiasm.

"Now stop that, you know a mermaid my age can hardly see you young fishfolk making gestures all over the place. It is nearly rocking my cottage here, however!"

"Grandma, please, I'll sit as still as the algae if only to know the answers I seek. Knowledge improves virtue, as they say."

"Then here it shall be. Humans have a much shorter lifespan; we exist for an average of three hundred years, while people live for generally less than a third of that. Yet a primary point of contrast: when human people die, their souls live on. Merpeople and fish merely become, now how to put this eloquently? Part of the sea. But there is eternity in becoming one with that which is more endless than the dwellings of land."

**XXX**

Her hair in a mess without a tie and her dress is torn from its former glory, now ruined by the salty waters. Meg, regardless, is as charming as ever.

"Where the hell is wonder boy? God damn me," She sighs. A nearby fisherman looks up, mildly alerted by this gorgeous, though vulgar woman. At the look of her tattered clothing, he recalls:

"You must be one of those upper class caught in the storm."

"That sounds about right. Could you help me out? A little far away from home, here..."

He takes her into his modest house in a tiny village. Calling for the local physician, Meg is cared for and patched up. She had acquired several bruises and cuts which are dressed, while being given an herbal remedy for her chest pains.

The man, Auron, happens to be taking his stock over to the nearest trading port, conveniently Meg's homeland as well. She agrees to board with him for a cost of working with the crew. Auron is a kind man, one who has taken in various vagabonds and lost children for different periods of time. He is hospitable, known throughout the region for his honest judgements.

Meg, like most, immediately take to his humble charisma. It is different from that of Hercules or his father; Auron merely exudes a simple life with meaning. He holds his head high, without fear of the next day.

"Damn it, I place blame on Hercules for this mess," Meg whispers fiercely. It is the third night they have spent together, and by candle light there is much conversing even after Auron's child and wife have long since retired. She takes a sip of the hot tea.

"Megara dear, you must learn to contain your swearing."

"Yeah, yeah. But aren't sailors known for their swearing?"

"You aren't a sailor and neither am I; I'm a simple fisherman, mind you," he teases her gently. "So this Hercules. Perhaps I ought to have asked earlier, but is he one and the same with the Hercules from the local legends?"

"Probably. Is he known for super human strength? And an uncanny ability to sense—or perhaps attract it, I'm not sure—danger? Yet he saves people ever time? Then that is definitely my Herc." A twinge of pride.

"Ah yes. A superfluous bit of bashing you've done for such a hero." He chuckles. "Especially as his future bride."

"He's the one practically pushing me into this extravagant party-at-sea that I was never in favor of. Yet it happens, despite the fact that it was _my_ birthday. Such a male. I am aware of his inheritance, after all."

"Some times men with power feel the need to be flamboyant," Auron nods.

"Herc's a good guy, though. He is the real deal, when it comes to being a hero. Doesn't need a fancy boat to prove it to everyone, 'Ron."

"Perhaps, he's only attempting to impress one." Meg has come to the understanding that Auron speaks often like a "wise elder", despite being newly middle-aged. He exits the room, leaving Meg to her tea.

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><p><strong>AN:** I just found the journal for this story. I have more chapters written, and I _will_ continue it.


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